An Existence Beyond Your Own
by Candyfairey
Summary: Sherlock and John Watson have found themselves transported to the past. There they meet the 11th Doctor and his companion Hermione Granger. While Sherlock develops feelings for the brilliant Hermione Granger, the four of them slowly discover Sherlock's secret, a secret he doesn't even know himself.
1. Chapter 1 Bored

A/N: So this is actually a crossover between three different things: Sherlock, Doctor Who and Harry Potter. This is my second fiction that I've started although I'm new to fanfiction, so please bear with me. To be honest at first I wasn't sure that it was going to come together. I seem to have epiphanies for my fictions in the shower, of all places!, when I'm trying to figure something out. Anyway you don't need me to tell how absolutely brilliant each of these shows/books/movies are. I apologize in advance because updates will be slow. Please review and if you like it so far, hang in there for updates. Enjoy my fellow Wholockians!

Chapter 1 Bored

"Sherlock," John said, slowly trailing Sherlock as he walked around the museum.

"Yes?" Sherlock replied, without looking at John in a slightly irritated tone.

"What exactly are we doing here?"

"I was bored. I thought that perhaps a trip to the museum would be interesting," Sherlock said, stopping momentarily and eyeing a painting on the wall as if it held a secret he was trying to work out.

"Um alright. Well I'm going to go get some coffee. Would you like some?" He said before turning to go.

"That's new," Sherlock said, ignoring John.

"What?"

"That old, blue police box. It wasn't here the last time I was here."

"I didn't notice."

"Of course you didn't," Sherlock replied in a condescending tone. He walked towards the mysterious blue box that was tucked in a corner.

John sighed and looked down at his feet. "I'm going to get that coffee now," John said although not making an attempt to move from his spot.

"It's rather curious," said Sherlock, once again ignoring john. "I don't see why an old police box would be in an art museum. I suppose because they aren't used anymore."

"You're just bored Sherlock," John replied, looking up. "You haven't had a case in two weeks."

Sherlock was in front of the police box now. He reached out and lightly traced a finger along the door. Not showing a hint of surprise when the door creaked open slightly. He pushed the door the rest of the way open and was curious as to why it wasn't locked.

"Sherlock!" John yelled.

When Sherlock stepped into the police box, he stopped cold.

"Sherlock? What's wrong?" John asked, concerned. He stepped towards his friend after noticing his suddenly stiff form. "Sherlock? Speechless? If Lestrade could see this," He joked, smiling.

When Sherlock didn't reply John stepped up behind him and lightly pushed him further into the box so he could see what had caused him to stop in his tracks.

John froze. His jaw dropped. He couldn't believe his eyes. He turned to look at his friend to see what kind of reaction something like this could elicit from him.

Just then, the door to the police box closed by itself. The two men blinked and turned towards the door. They both tried to open it but it wouldn't budge.

A weird, whirring sound came from behind and they turned back around. It was coming from a strange looking control panel in the middle of the room.

The police box started to move causing the men to stumble. Sherlock steadied himself and moved towards the control panel. He didn't recognize any of the strange buttons and levers on the machine. He grabbed onto a bar that was connected to what looked like a screen to keep himself upright.

"Sherlock what's happening!?" Shouted John trying to keep steady while trying to have a look at the control panel for himself.

When the box stilled and the strange whirring noise stopped they both stood still, looking at each other as if waiting for the other to move first. They went to the door, unsure of whether or not it would open. Sherlock opened it apprehensively and wide enough to allow John to see as well. They heard the noise of creaking and groaning wood. They looked around the dark room, which was only lit by a square shaft of light a few feet away.

They both exited the police box. Sherlock circled the box twice, his brows knitted together in a rare case of perplexity. "Impossible." He said.

They headed towards the shaft of light. They heard someone shouting orders and the sound of water as they came to some wooden stairs. They walked up the stairs coming to a stop at the top and once again they stopped in their tracks.

Sherlock's mind whirred at the sight before him. They were on a ship. Not just any ship but a pirate ship sometime in the 1700s judging by the clothing of the crew and the style of the ship.

They stepped all the way onto the deck catching the attention of a few nearby crewmen. "Stowaways!" came a cry from one. The men drew their swords and rushed toward Sherlock and John crying out to their fellow crewmen.

Within a matter of seconds Sherlock and John were completely surrounded by them with more than a dozen sword tips in their faces. Some wore angry scowls on their faces; others wore sinister smiles, revealing their rotted, yellow and black teeth, some with hardly any teeth to show.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N: I own nothing. I really enjoyed writing this chapter and I hope you enjoy reading it as well. **

Chapter 2: Initially He Wanted to Be a Pirate

Sherlock was standing at the bow of the ship staring out at the water. His coat was being whipped around him by the wind. He was wearing a black, tri-corner hat which sat a bit lopsided on his head.

"Where are we?" John asked coming up behind Sherlock and squinting into the bright sunlight.

"I believe we're somewhere along the Caribbean Spanish West Indies and that we are somewhere around the 1700s. Based on what some of those lads told me." Sherlock said nodding to a group of three, rather dirty looking, men huddled together and talking. All wearing loose and dirty cream colored shirts, brown or black pants that came to their calves and different colored rags tied around their heads.

"Did you get to talk to the captain?" John asked.

"Yes I did. We are now a part of his crew," he told John with a hint of a smile gracing his features.

"Then why aren't we doing anything like everyone else?" John said looking around at the crew.

"I had a nice talk with the captain, rather nice as far as pirate captains go."

"Because you have a lot of experience with pirate captains," John mumbled.

"I learned everything I needed to know about them in grade school," Sherlock said turning to face John. "We're on course towards a Spanish ship full of cargo. We're going to raid it."

"What? As in you and I have to participate in a raid? With pirates?" John asked incredulously.

"Yes. We're to get swords before we get there."

"I don't know how to use a sword!" John yelled, clearly frustrated at the situation they were in.

"You're a war veteran. I'm sure it won't be that hard to pick up the skills. Or perhaps you could ask for a pistol. As I recall you're an excellent shot."

"I…We are not participating in a raid! We could be killed! We need to figure out how to get back home! You just had to go into that box! I have a date!" John yelled furiously.

"Well then you'll have something very exciting to tell her when we get back won't you," Sherlock said before turning and walking away.

John yelled. "Do you really not care about getting back home or how we ended up here for that matter!?"

Sherlock stopped to look back at John over his shoulder. "As for the latter I very much care about how we ended up here. But as for the former, like you said, I was bored," he turned back around and continued walking, going to see what more he could find out.

An hour later both Sherlock and John were practicing on deck with their newly issued swords.

Sherlock, rather enthusiastically, kept lunging with his sword towards John. When John swung at Sherlock he agilely blocked John's sword and moved his feet along with John's, being sure to keep the same distance between them. His moves looked like they came right out of a movie. Unbeknownst to John, Sherlock was drawing on his knowledge from countless books he had spent reading when he was young as well as a pirate movie that had been a favorite of his when he was a child.

"Ship ahead!" came a cry from the crow's nest.

The captain immediately came from his quarters. He burst from a door at the bow of the ship, underneath the top deck where the steering wheel was located. He was dressed in a red coat with brass buttons and a large black tri-corner hat that was much grander than Sherlock's. It had a giant red feather sticking from it. His black boots came just below his knees and a sword was strapped to his right side and Sherlock saw where two pistols were concealed under his coat on each hip. "Hard to starboard!" he yelled in a gruff voice.

Sherlock grinned at John. "Finally!" he yelled. John could not believe how excited Sherlock was about raiding a ship. It wasn't like this was a murder case; then again he remembered Mycroft had told him that Sherlock once wanted to be a pirate.

The crew swarmed to the starboard side once they neared the ship. One group of the crew put a plank out that reached from their ship to the Spanish one, which Sherlock noticed was called the Lady of the Sea in Spanish.

John held his sword at the ready. Unwilling to use it but if someone from the other ship were to come aboard and attack him he wouldn't hesitate. He looked up in awe as crewmen swung from ropes of the ship onto the Spanish ship, some with swords at the ready and others with knives in their mouths. "They really do that?" he asked no one in particular.

He heard someone give out a cry and he turned to see Sherlock run from the other side of the ship, both hands gripping a thick rope along with his sword. He watched as his friend swung over the other ship, scarf and coat flying behind him. He dropped down onto the deck, immediately crossing swords with a Spaniard.

John gaped in disbelief and shook his head. He knew he couldn't just stand there. He had to at least have his friend's back. John grabbed for the rope that Sherlock had just used as it swung back to the ship. He pulled it back to the same spot where Sherlock had been and held it tightly, curling his fingers around the hilt of the sword and the rope. After a brief moment of hesitation he let out a yell, although not as enthusiastic as Sherlock's, and ran forward. The rope swung out over the other ship where he let go, landing a little unsteadily on his feet next to Sherlock. They moved so they were back to back.

A Spaniard ran forward and John shot out his sword in defense, the Spaniard's sword clashing with his with a loud clang of metal. He pushed the sword into John's, a mustached smile on his face coming close to John's. John twisted his sword with such force that the Spaniard's sword flew out of his hand. John smiled at the Spaniard who put up his hands and backed away, momentarily defenseless.

John flung his sword back up to defend himself again but froze. The man that came forward was wearing a bow tie and suspenders and had a mop of rather floppy hair. Nothing a Spaniard from this time would be wearing.

"I really don't want to use this," the floppy haired man said, holding out his sword in defense just like John. "Wait a minute. You don't look like a pirate," the strange man said, straightening up in stance and lowering his sword a bit.

"That's because I'm not and neither do you," John answered.

The floppy haired man lowered his sword. "How did you get here?" he asked, his brow furrowing in what John saw was sincere curiosity.

"Some blue police box brought us here. Why?" John said, lowering his sword as well.

"You've got my Tardis? Us?" The raggedy man asked.

"You're what?" John asked, confused.

"Doctor!" came a cry from the other side of Sherlock. Both John and Sherlock froze. It was a female voice.

"You're a woman!" Sherlock exclaimed.

"Very well spotted!" the young woman replied. "Doctor!" she yelled again.

"Yes! Yes! I heard you!" the floppy haired man said who John assumed to be the doctor the female voice was calling for. He passed John, coming up on Sherlock's left side. John moved to Sherlock's other side; curious as to why a woman was on a Spanish ship fighting against pirates. She pulled a tri-corner hat from her head and her curly, slightly unruly brown hair came tumbling down around her shoulders. Sherlock immediately noticed how intelligent her brown eyes were.

"Where is your wand?" the Doctor asked.

"I told you I left it on the Tardis when it kicked us out."

"Right. Well the man there," he pointed to John with his sword, "Knows where the Tardis is.

"Wait. Just wait a minute," Sherlock said. "What is a Tardis and who are you? You are clearly not from this time," he said, taking in this doctor's bow tie, white button up shirt and suspenders and the straight leg khakis, red and grey striped shirt, and grey sneakers of the female he seemed to be with.

"And neither are you. I am The Doctor and this is my companion Hermione Granger," he answered cheerfully.

"Doctor of what?" John asked.

"Just The Doctor," he said. "Now if you could take me to my Tardis I would very much like to get out of here. I can take you back to where you've come from as well."

"You haven't told us what a Tardis is," said John.

"Oh right. Tardis stands for Time and Relative Dimension In Space. It's my time and space machine. Oh don't look at me like that," he said at the gaping mouth of John and the disbelieving face of Sherlock. "It's what got you here isn't it?"

Sherlock considered this. "We'll take you to your Tardis if you give us some answers."

The Doctor looked momentarily displeased. "All right," he said, turning on his heels towards the pirate ship. "Take me to my Tardis!" he yelled, holding his sword up in the air.

They turned towards a plank of wood that was connecting the two ships and crossed it to the pirate ship, all of them eager to escape the chaos around them.


	3. Chapter 3 Fish and Chips

**A/N: Ok so in this fic, for Hermione, it's been six years after the battle at Hogwarts. For The Doctor it's after the Ponds left. For Sherlock and John it's between The Hounds of Baskerville and The Reichenbach Fall episode. So the timelines are all a bit wibbley-wobbly. Also I'm going to go ahead and apologize in advance because I don't know when I'll be able to update over the next month and a half due to limited access over Christmas break. If I'm unable to update over break then I promise that when I'm able to, I'll update with more than one chapter. I own nothing. Enjoy!**

Chapter 3 Fish and Chips

Sherlock and John sat inside the TARDIS, side by side on a seat. They were silently watching The Doctor and Hermione push and pull levers and press buttons on that strange control panel. Sherlock, try as he might, couldn't figure out what those strange buttons and levers did. He wondered how Hermione knew which levers to pull, buttons to push and use the weird looking things that Sherlock couldn't name.

"Um, excuse me could you please tell me what we're doing?" John asked.

"Ah yes! Well we're setting course for…where are you from?" asked The Doctor.

"London, England 2012," replied John.

"Right well we'll be there eventually," The Doctor told them, pushing a lever upwards.

Sherlock stood up and went to inspect the console up close. "How does this work?" he asked, directing the question at The Doctor.

"Oh you know, wibbley wobbly, timey wimey stuff. You wouldn't understand."

"Really? Why don't you tell me and we'll see how much I don't understand." Hermione looked at Sherlock curiously. He was clearly insulted at The Doctor's words because his intelligence was being questioned. She smiled to herself, knowing how he felt. The Doctor had said the same thing to her when she first asked him and she was quick to show that she could indeed understand, as she was demonstrating by helping him now.

"Oh maybe some other time. Now I'm sure you're both hungry. Time travel tends to do that to you. How about some fish and chips from the seventies eh?" The Doctor said.

"Oh that sounds delicious," Sherlock said sarcastically, resuming his seat next to John with a scowl on his face.

"I thought you were taking us home?" John asked, slightly confused.

"I will, but you kept your part of the deal, what kind of Time Lord would you take me for if I didn't keep mine?"

"Did you just say Time Lord?" Sherlock asked.

Before The Doctor could answer John cut in, "Does that make you…an alien?"

The Doctor pointed at John "Ah see! He gets it!" he said, looking at Sherlock.

Sherlock, with an even bigger scowl on his face, couldn't believe this buffoon believed that he couldn't understand any of his 'timey-wimey' stuff. Of course the man hardly knew him but really. Sherlock could tell he was intelligent.

A few minutes later they were all seated on a park bench, each with fish and chips. Just as The Doctor said, they were in seventies London, which Sherlock had seen immediately by the dress of people on the street.

"So," John started, with a mouth full of chips, why does your spaceship look like an old police box?"

"Well there's what you call the chameleon circuit. It's used to disguise the TARDIS to blend in in whatever time and place it lands. But it's stuck, so hence the police box. And it's not really a spaceship. It doesn't really fly through space. It fades out from one time and space into another."

"Like teleportation?"

"Yes, you could say that."

"And how does that work exactly?"

"Well like I said, timey wimey-stuff. I push or pull certain levers, hit buttons and all that and it takes me where I want it to."

"Not all the time," Hermione cut in.

"Very true, but we always have fun don't we?" he said with a big smile, nudging her in the side with his elbow.

"And you're an alien? A Time Lord?"

"Yes."

"Are you an alien too?" John asked Hermione.

She let out a laugh. "No, I'm human. But I am a witch."

"The Doctor asked about a wand earlier," Sherlock stated.

"Yes. It's how I cast spells, although I'm quite good at some wand-less magic as well." She pulled her wand from her pocket to show them. "Would you like to see something?"

"Seeing as I don't believe you, yes," Sherlock said.

Hermione stood, placing her uneaten portion of fish and chips on the bench.

There was a squirrel nearby, edging towards a trash can, looking for some food. She stepped slowly up to it so as not to startle it. She pointed her wand at it and the squirrel morphed into a water goblet.

The Doctor had a look of delight on his face while John stared openmouthed and Sherlock had a rare stare of disbelief. Sherlock rose from the bench and picked up the water goblet, thoroughly inspecting it.

"Change it back," he told her, placing it back on the ground.

Hermione did so, and the squirrel quickly scurried away, no longer interested in finding food.

They both sat back down on the bench, Sherlock going into deep thought.

"And where are you from?" John asked Hermione.

"London," Hermione replied.

"And you Doctor?"

"I'm from the planet Gallifrey. That's where my people lived. But there was a war and it's gone now," he said, with a hint of sadness in his voice that none of them missed.

"Gallifrey isn't a planet," Sherlock cut in.

"Coming from someone who doesn't know that the Earth revolves around the sun," John said.

Hermione and The Doctor both stared at Sherlock.

"It's not important," Sherlock stated.

"He doesn't keep anything that he doesn't think is important. And he has this… mind palace thing," John explained, trailing off.

"Wait," Hermione started, "Your name is Sherlock and your name is John," she said, motioning to each of them as she said their names. "What are your last names?"

"Holmes," replied Sherlock.

"Watson," replied John.

This time Hermione and The Doctor stared at both Sherlock and John.

"What a coincidence!" The Doctor let out.

"Coincidence?" Sherlock asked.

"You two are friends, at least I assume you are, and you both have the same names as Sir Arthur Conan Doyle's book characters," Hermione explained, before eating the last of her chips.

"Sir Arthur Conan Doyle? Book characters?" John asked, thoroughly confused.

"You have the names of one of the most famous detectives in literature and his best friend and you don't know about it?" Hermione asked incredulously.

"This character, Sherlock, is a detective?" asked Sherlock, his curiosity peaked.

"Yes, and his friend is a physician that helps him with his cases, his only friend actually," Hermione told them.

"Does this Sherlock happen to have a brother?" John asked, his curiosity peaked as well.

"Yes. Mycroft Holmes," Hermione answered.

Sherlock stood up and threw his trash away before turning to face them. "This is a joke right? You're some time traveling alien from a non-existent planet, you're a witch, and John and I are characters in a book? Really John, you could have done better than this."

"Um, Sherlock, I haven't done anything," John said.

"Doctor, I think we should get back to the TARDIS, Sherlock needs some rest. I think this is all a bit much," Hermione whispered.

"I'm perfectly fine!" Sherlock yelled. "How did you do this John? Are these actors? Where did you get the money for this?"

"Sherlock I haven't done anything."

Sherlock looked intently at John. He could tell he wasn't lying.

Sherlock's mind whirred with a million thoughts, each one trying to figure out what was going on. It was like the case with the hounds all over again.

What he knew to be logical, to be real, to be possible, was being challenged. To Sherlock anything that wasn't logical was wrong. Everything had a logical explanation, but a man that claimed to be a Time Lord from an unheard of planet? A box that was bigger on the inside and that could travel through time and space? How could John have set up the pirate ship? How did the police box get from the museum to the ship, to this place that looked very much like four decades ago? What about the book characters? Sherlock had never heard of Sir Arthur Conan Doyle. Why was the girl being a witch even important to this whole scheme? How did she change that squirrel into a goblet before his eyes?

The others watched as Sherlock struggled to find an explanation.

He turned away from them, his eyes closed with his pointer and middle fingers at his temple, trying to come up with an explanation.

Sherlock felt a hand at his back and turned to see Hermione looking up at him with concern in her eyes and her brows furrowed in worry.

"Let's go back to the TARDIS alright?"

Sherlock, surprising himself, nodded and allowed Hermione to wrap her arm around his as she led the way back to the TARDIS.

Once they were back inside the TARDIS, Hermione led Sherlock down a hallway and into a bedroom.

"You can stay here. John will be in the next room."

She reached to help him take off his scarf and he gently caught her wrists.

"Why are you helping me?" he asked, the first thing he had said since he's outburst in the park.

"Because you're clearly having a difficult time with this. I've always been a highly logical person and I can tell that you are too. I suppose because I'm a witch; it was easier for me to believe The Doctor."

Sherlock let go of her wrists and she proceeded to take off his scarf and then helped him remove his jacket as he still seemed be in a fit of disbelief.

"You barely even know me," he whispered.

"I can tell you're a bit like me though. I'll get you a pair of The Doctor's pajamas. I can adjust them to fit you," she said, turning to leave.

"Wait. How did you do that earlier? Change the squirrel into a goblet and back?"

"I told you, with magic. I can't explain how it works really. Except that if you tried to use my wand, you wouldn't be able to do anything. The magic comes from within me."

At that she left the room with a smile while Sherlock crossed out the idea in his mind to try and use her wand, although that wouldn't stop him from getting a good look at it.

A few minutes later Hermione returned with two pairs of blue and white striped pajamas.

"Here you are. I'll be back to adjust them for you," she said before leaving the room to go give John his pair.

Later that night, while everyone was in bed, Sherlock lay wide awake. He wished he had some nicotine patches with him. He could really use them after the day's events.

When he tried to sleep, the day's events kept flashing in his mind. He couldn't decide if he accepted what was going on or not. He was still trying to come up with logical explanations for everything but they all came up short. Hermione had been very kind and concerned about him, although she barely knew him. She reminded him of John. She seemed like she wanted to be a friend of his already, but unlike John she hadn't seen how Sherlock could be yet. He could tell she was a loyal person and he wondered why she had taken up with The Doctor.

At 4:00 AM Sherlock finally drifted off to sleep, where his mind was free to wander.


	4. UPDATE

Okay so I know I'm the slowest updater ever and I sincerely apologize. I have four weeks of the semester left, the last week being finals so I won't really have the time to work on any of my fictions, much like this entire semester. On the upside I won't be taking summer classes so I will have three months to work on them and work on them I will. I will have very limited access to the internet over the summer but if I'm able to I will do my best to update when I have access.

Thank you guys so much for following/favoriting and reviewing my story. It truly means a lot to me.


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